Something I've Forgotten, Curled Up, Died
by Unstoppable Cyborg
Summary: AU: Out of all the things Morgana expected when she finally confronted the child who locked them both in the Shadow Realm, this wasn't one of them. Or, Morgana redemption, step one of a very large number. Contains discussion of death and body horror. Title from a Scissor Sisters song.


**I don't own ****_Trollhunters_****, but I do own my dark magic worldbuilding.**

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After a month had passed since the Skathe-Hrün had been destroyed, Morgana finally came across the replica of the Nuñez household. She flexed her clawed hands, bored and ready to finish off the child who dared defy her.

Because of the child, Morgana wouldn't be able to kill Merlin. She had left him weak and badly injured, but once she was trapped here his magic had returned to him. He would have healed himself and then ended her Eternal Night. The child would have to endure everything Morgana had planned for Merlin, instead.

Morgana opened the door.

It was quiet. Too quiet, really. Morgana was alert, in case the child had planned an ambush. Not that she was concerned for her own well being, of course. She just didn't want to deal with the annoyance that was a teenage girl flying at her, attempting to stab her. Really, ever since the two of them had first met in physical bodies, the child had been trying to tackle Morgana. It had culminated in the child trapping the two of them in the Shadow Realm, a backfiring of the child's foolish plan.

Then again, this house had been meant as a tomb. Morgana had created it to trap and kill the child, so that she couldn't repossess her own arm as Morgana attempted to kill the trollhunter. In her own body child couldn't survive without access to food and water, and everything normally edible here was now meant to be a sort of poison, corrupting and killing her soul until there was next to nothing left.

Morgana let herself relax, somewhat. She shouldn't expect an ambush. It was far more likely that the child was already dead.

Still, Morgana sighed and began to ascend the stairs. She may as well go confirm the child's demise, just for the peace of mind and the distraction. She was here anyways, and doing so wouldn't harm her chances of finding a way out of the Shadow Realm.

The door to the child's room was shut. Barricaded, like the child had tried to seal herself in for a siege. Those weren't fun. Morgana pressed her lips together, remembering what it had been like to be afraid because her stepfather's castle was under siege. As terrible as Merlin was, Morgana would admit that his tutelage had made her less afraid, more able to fight back, even if she lost her hand in the process.

However, the Eldritch Queen had enjoyed raiding more than she had ever enjoyed being trapped by a siege. The door, and the bookcase and vanity behind it, had large holes disintegrated in them. Morgana strode through, looking for the child.

Her mouth fell open, ever so slightly, at the sight.

Dark magic was dangerous to those who used it, especially the inexperienced and the desperate.

There was a limit to how much normal magic one could use. One could only use so much normal magic before having to rest. But dark magic, one could hit the bottom of their reservoir and keep going. If one didn't sacrifice others, then it would eat away at the user.

Morgana had been careful, when she was first teaching herself dark magic. She had expanded her resevoir of magic little by little as she made herself _powerful _and _strong_. It wasn't just because she hadn't wanted Merlin to know, even though back then she thought the worst that would happen would be banishment. She hadn't thought he'd harvest her for the components of that accursed amulet.

But no, she had been careful, and she had never gone to the point where it had nearly killed her.

Black blood poured from Claire's mouth and nostrils in inky rivulets. The only armor she wore was her breastplate, leaving Morgana to see how black cracks made their way up the child's too-thin arms and down her neck. Her white hair glowed faintly as it spilled around her head.

At nineteen, Morgana had met a young boy who had tried to heal himself using dark magic. He had wasted away, slowly, his magic trying to preserve him and just killing him in the process. The markings of dark magic had stayed with him through unconsciousness into death.

Morgana stopped levitating, and took cautious steps towards Claire's unconscious form. It was hard to tell if the child was breathing. She crouched, and using her right hand, placed two fingers against the child's jugular.

The child's eyes snapped halfway open at the touch. They were black with purple light. The child tried to back away, lips peeling into a snarl. Her eyes rolled into her head, and she fainted. The meager attempt to fight back had exhausted her.

It would be _so_ easy to kill the child right now. Morgana could even be kind about it; the child wouldn't feel it if she died in her sleep.

That hadn't been the plan, however. The plan had been to bring the child to the brink of death a hundred times. Kill her slowly.

Morgana looked around the room. There were scattered granola bar wrappers. The child had eaten the food meant to poison her. Based on the child's features, it had almost worked. But the child had tried to heal herself.

Dark magic couldn't be used to heal yourself, not any more than you could use normal magic. Go past the reservoir; you just make _different_wounds.

The child had likely tried to heal herself. If Morgana tried to bring her to the brink of death, Claire _would _kill herself in an attempt to keep herself alive.

Morgana looked out the window to the asteroid field, pressing her lips together. The Pale Lady paled.

The child had inborn magical talent, that was true, but she had never preformed any spells that weren't dark magic. Nearly all of her magical skill was honed by the Skathe-Hrün.

Morgana had planned to teach her nephew dark magic, but she had last seen him when he was a child and just beginning his magical tutelage.

Morgana closed her eyes, blocking out all her senses and forcing herself to see only magical energies. It was a skill she had honed while trapped in that forsaken Heartstone.

Claire's magical signature had been darker than any novice's should have been when she had made her largest portal. Now it was probably darker than Morgana's own.

That was disturbing, and not just because it meant the child could possibly pose a threat.

Morgana had primed the child for possession, had manipulated the illness to make sure the child's body could be a vessel for Morgana's soul. Because of this, the child would be more receptive to dark magic than was safe for someone of her skill.

Claire had stolen the Skathe-Hrün in their battle of wills, and by doing so she had bound herself to the Shadow Realm. If she knew what she was doing, she would become powerful.

The child didn't have much, if any, training in magic. Just a six-eyed troll warning her of the dangers associated with using a staff made of dark magic, and _maybe_a very small lesson from Merlin. Without training, she would die.

Of course, Morgana could _probably_bring the child back to life. She had the full body, and that was more than she had had to bring Angor Rot back to life. Of course, she had had a better hold on his soul than she had for the soul of the child. She was powerful, but there was no _guarantee_.

Morgana paced the room, keeping the child's unconscious body in the corner of her eye. She didn't feel like quickly killing the child, not right now, not when she couldn't be sure she could bring the child back. If Morgana couldn't resurrect her, then she'd be truly alone in a way she'd never been. Even in that accursed Heartstone, she could still speak to her changelings and listen to the goings-on of Trollmarket.

Because of the way the child had intertwined herself with dark magic, Morgana couldn't slowly kill the child, not without the child accidentally quickening the process.

Morgana bit her lip as she tried to figure out what to do, and then she smiled slightly as the idea came to her.

The child had powerful dark magic, why not use it? Morgana could train the child, and eventually tear open the fabric of reality enough that they could leave the Shadow Realm. Morgana would have to gain a fraction of the child's trust, of course, but she supposed she'd have to nurse the child back to health, anyways.

Morgana levitated the child into the air; the child struggled a little, but was unnervingly limp. Morgana frowned at just how light Claire was compared to when she had been about to possess her, even though now the child wore some of Merlin's armor. Morgana would have to fix that.

Morgana strode out of the house, her unconscious new apprentice in tow.

In the meantime, Morgana was unsure of why she wanted to detach her cape from its pauldrons and wrap it around Claire like a blanket.


End file.
